


Lips Like Pomegranate Blossoms

by anamuan



Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cosmetics, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Makeup, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamuan/pseuds/anamuan
Summary: "You look more like a flower than a jade now," Wei Wuxian says, unable to resist at least a little teasing. A smile hovers around the edges of his mouth, but never quite breaks out into a full-fledged grin. Lan Wangji opens his eyes, taking the polished brass mirror Wei Wuxian holds up for him, but his expression doesn't change.





	Lips Like Pomegranate Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lionheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionheart/gifts).



> For WangXian Week, Day 4: Valentine's Day!  
> Many thanks to lionheart for proofreading, cheerleading, and hand-holding for me while I was writing this.

Wei Ying leans in, and Lan Wangji closes his eyes and holds himself still. Mo XuanYu's body still looks strange on him, but eyes closed, listening to his light breaths, it's just Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji relaxes his shoulders and straightens his spine, and lets Wei Ying go to work. A fine powder made from ground rice is applied to Lan Wangji's entire face and down his neck to the collar of his robes.

Next comes the rouge, which Lan Wangji identifies by its fragrance. This rouge is of a high quality, carrying only the mild, clear scent of sweet osmanthus. It wafts to him in gentle eddies as Wei Ying dabs it onto his powdered cheeks with the pads of two fingers. Wei Ying gently applies it to the outside of his upper eyelids and his temples with delicate touches, light as the caress of a drifting peach blossom.

Wei Ying lingers over Lan Wangji's lips, fussing with the shape he applies with his rouged fingertips, dragging them across the sensitive skin there in a way that makes Lan Wangji's heart rate quicken and his breath come faster. It makes Lan Wangji feel as though he'd been drinking, sweet scent on his tongue, heady from Wei Ying's nearness.

*

"You look more like a flower than a jade now," Wei Wuxian says, unable to resist at least a little teasing. A smile hovers around the edges of his mouth, but never quite breaks out into a full-fledged grin. Lan Wangji opens his eyes, taking the polished brass mirror Wei Wuxian holds up for him, but his expression doesn't change.

After studying his profile for a few moments, Wei Wuxian gathers a few strands of Lan Wangji's hair by his face. "We really should do something with your hair as well, to complete the effect," he muses, when Lan Wangji suddenly drops the mirror and catches the edge of his sleeve and drags it to his mouth. "Hey, don't smudge it! If you want it off, don't use my clothes as a hankerchie—"

Wei Wuxian stops flailing when Lan Wangji drops his sleeve just as quickly, a vermillion smudge of the scented rouge visible along the hemline of Wei Wuxian's black sleeve. He holds it up to get a better look, turning his sleeve this way and that to see that it's readily visible from most angles.

He waves the sleeve in front of Lan Wangji's face, scolding, "Look at what you've done, Lan Zhan. Now none of the young misses in town will look at me twice, with this kiss mark you've left on my sleeve! They'll call me a rogue if I try to flirt with them and ask me how I could forget my lover so quickly with this mark right here!"

Lan Wangji's brows twitch briefly, but he does nothing except pick up the hand mirror again.

Wei Wuxian tsks, and hastily smears rouge across his own lips. It's significantly less artful a look without the benefit of the mirror or the careful attention he'd paid to Lan Wangji's lips, but speed is of the essence as he captures Lan Wangji's arm. Lan Wangji makes a grab for his own immaculate white sleeve with his other hand, but Wei Wuxian lets him pull it away without interfering. He presses his rouged lips to the bare skin on the inside of Lan Wangji's wrist instead. It felt wrong to stain the snowy Gusu "mourning clothes" just for a little bit of revenge.

Cackling, Wei Wuxian drops Lan Wangji's arm and rolls away. Lan Wangji doesn't follow, just holds up his wrist to survey the damage with a blank face for a few moments. Outwardly, his appearance barely shifts at all, but Wei Wuxian is used to looking at Lan Wangji now; he's learned to read Lan Wangji's mood in the smallest of changes: the set of his brow, the twitch of his lips, the tilt of his head, or the turn of a shoulder. Now, Lan Wangji's gaze heats up; his whole body heats, for the sweet, floral scent of the osmanthus spreads in the air, mixed with the cold sandalwood fragrance that clings to Lan Wangji at all times.

Wei Wuxian swallows and suddenly wishes he hadn't rolled away, but had climbed onto Lan Wangji's lap instead, weighing him down and pressing kisses to his skin wherever he could reach.

Lan Wangji transfers his hot gaze to Wei Wuxian stretched out on the floor, and Wei Wuxian has just enough time to think that maybe it didn't matter either way, when Lan Wangji springs into motion. His movements, as always, are smooth with a studied grace Wei Wuxian can do nothing but admire, as he covers Wei Wuxian with his body and catches him by the lapels.

Wei Wuxian struggles briefly—not out of any desire to get away, but because his aim to pull Lan Wangji down into a kiss, and Lan Wangji's aim don't immediately match. "What are you—" he starts as Lan Wangji angles Wei Wuxian's chin upward and lowers his face to his throat. He swallows back the rest of his sentence, gasping as Lan Wangji holds him steady, waiting for the touch of Lan Wangji's lips to his overheated skin.

Lan Wangji pulls away after just an instant of teasing pressure at his collar, no kiss delivered. He stares down at Wei Wuxian for a long moment that stretches out in Wei Wuxian's impatient perception, and then his lips twitch upwards for the barest second, and he starts to sit up.

It dawns on Wei Wuxian in another moment just what Lan Wangji had done: he pulls at his lapel, but sees no hint of red. He tugs the collar of his white under-robe out, and finds it there: a distinct vermillion mark in the shape of Lan Wangji's lips on the snowy white silk.

A cunning thought flashes through Wei Wuxian's mind: Lan Wangji is both faster and stronger than most men. If Wei Wuxian hopes to best him, he will have to outwit him. He starts pulling hastily on the sash of his own robes.

"What are you doing?" Lan Wangji asks. His _face_ doesn't betray his surprise, but just having asked the question conveys it to Wei Wuxian well enough.

"How can I go out with the illustrious HanGuang-Jun with such a dishevelled appearance?" he responds, while shrugging out of the sleeves of his outer robe. Wei Wuxian rises onto his heels to let the material fall from his back, mock-clucking over the red stain on his undergarment. Without warning, Wei Wuxian uses the new position to pounce on Lan Wangji before he can put up his guard. Lan Wangji had also misread his intent, blocking his hands from his own pristine white collar; Wei Wuxian had anticipated this—had telegraphed this—and gone for his sash belt instead, tearing it open with two decisive strokes.

Lan Wangji drops his hands to his opened sash. Wei Wuxian takes advantage of his distraction to yank his lapels wide and wrench the edges of his white, cloud-motif robe down his shoulders in one jerky motion. It tangles Lan Wangji's arms in the material long enough for Wei Wuxian to loosen the sash of Lan Wangji's inner robe as well.

Wei Wuxian slides his hands in under the edges of Lan Wangji's inner robe and up his chest to grip his shoulders, hands hot against his skin; Lan Wangji's mouth falls open in a gasp. Wei Wuxian presses his lips to the point on Lan Wangji's chest where his collar would lie, just below his collarbone, then lifts his face slightly to the point where his neck and collarbone meet. He drags his lips up the side of Lan Wangji's neck to his pulse point, leaving smearing marks of rouge in his wake.

Lan Wangji's hands up come to tangle in Wei Wuxian's hair, and Wei Wuxian can't suppress a grin as he licks over the vermillion-stained spot just behind Lan Wangji's ear, when Lan Wangji pulls him away instead.

"Lan Zhan, what—" Wei Wuxian manages before Lan Wangji drags him up for a heated kiss. The scent of osmanthus and sandalwood rises everywhere around Wei Wuxian; he feels dizzy with it, giddy with it, and kisses Lan Wangji back with equal fervor. He barely notices when Lan Wangji undoes the sash of his inner robe, until he slides his hand into the top of Wei Wuxian's trousers to cup him in the palm of his hand. Wei Wuxian gasps into their kiss and lets Lan Wangji draw him out into the warm air between them and stroke him to hardness while he sucks on his tongue. He only pays enough attention to Lan Wangji tugging on the shoulders of his under-robe with his other hand to help him pull it off.

Wei Wuxian shakes his hands free of the undergarment, and then Lan Wangji catches them in his own, dragging them together and then binding them loosely with his own belt. The pale blue silk looks as pristine as ever, used for such a purpose, though Wei Wuxian imagines that he, with his mouth stained red and his flushed cock exposed and his wrists bound in front of him, makes an entirely different picture.

Lan Wangji smoothes the blue material against Wei Wuxian's wrists once, checking to see if the knots impede Wei Wuxian's circulation or if the twisted silk gives him any discomfort. Satisfied with his work, he catches Wei Wuxian around the waist and raises him enough to pull the trousers the rest of the way off his legs.

Arousal spikes through him at being so suddenly exposed, at the hungry way Lan Wangji looks at him, and his cock bobs a little between his legs, growing harder under Lan Wangji's gaze. Wei Wuxian reaches for him, but Lan Wangji dodges his hands, pressing a red kiss to the center of his chest and holding him down with fingers spread wide against Wei Wuxian's hips.

Lan Wangji presses another kiss to the edge of his hip, between his own spread fingers, and Wei Wuxian moans, cock straining upwards.

Lan Wangji doesn't make him wait. He slides down Wei Wuxian's body to settle comfortably between his spread thighs, and wraps a hand around the length of Wei Wuxian's cock, pumping a few times to draw his foreskin back. Wei Wuxian moans again and tries to keep his hips still when Lan Wangji presses his vermillion lips to the head of his cock.

Lan Wangji gives him a gentle kiss, and then licks the precome that starts to leak from his slit. He kisses him again, leaving a smudged red mark in the shape of his mouth on the tip of his cock like folded pomegranate petals when he pulls back.

Lan Wangji leaves smearing kisses down the side of Wei Wuxian's cock, lips trailing red in their wake. When he reaches the base of his cock, Lan Wangji sucks a bruising mark against the underside, just where his shaft meets his body.

"Lan Zhan, if you do that, I'll—" Wei Wuxian gasps, overwhelmed by the sensation and the way Lan Wangji looks, mouth stained red, stretched around him, staining his cock in turn. Lan Wangji immediately pulls back, blowing a cool breath against Wei Wuxian's slick skin in a way that makes goosebumps break out across his body, a shudder work its way down his spine.

He growls in frustration and exquisite arousal and tries to catch Lan Wangji's head in his bound hands. Lan Wangji bats his hands away easily, and Wei Wuxian knows that Lan Wangji isn't going to let him hold him, drag him where he wants him.

"HanGuang-Jun!" Wei Wuxian starts to scold goodnaturedly, then loses the rest of his thought when Lan Wangji shifts to suck a similar mark on the other side of his shaft. Wei Wuxian bucks forward and strains backward at the same time, the sucking pressure making him all the more desperate to have Lan Wangji's smudged vermilion lips wrapped back around the sensitive head of his cock.

When Lan Wangji pulls back again and Wei Wuxian finally gets his breath back, he changes tactics. "Er-gege," he says, a sly, flirtatious tone creeping into his voice, "I know you like to tie me up like this, but this teasing is entirely new. Are you really so set on proving that a late blooming flower isn't lacking in fragrance?" He shifts his hips as he says it, inching backwards so that the tip of his cock bobs just below Lan Wangji's swollen lips. "You've convinced me already. I'm not interested in the fragrance of other blossoms."

Lan Wangji locks eyes with Wei Wuxian, the unrestrained heat in his gaze ready to burn them both up. He licks a broad stripe over the head of Wei Wuxian's cock and then sucks him between his lips like a man drowning, desperately gulping air.

Wei Wuxian moans and his hips twist up frantically in the sudden, slick heat, the sight of Lan Wangji's ruined red mouth sending him dangerously close to the edge. Lan Wangji throws an arm across his hips to hold him down, so Wei Wuxian hooks a knee over Lan Wangji's shoulder and pulls him in like that, thigh tensing as Lan Wangji presses his tongue against his frenulum.

There is rouge smeared around the edges of Lan Wangji's mouth, a smudge of it on his cheek from his earlier ministrations. His lips stretch wide around the head of Wei Wuxian's cock, which is stained just as red as Lan Wangji's mouth. The dark look in his pale eyes drives Wei Wuxian higher and higher as he sucks him off; and Wei Wuxian's thighs tense, dragging him closer, deeper, and Lan Wangji releases his iron hold on Wei Wuxian's hips and opens his throat and just takes him as deeply as he can go.

"La—ah! Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says—pleads—voice breaking. "Lan Zhan, I—" and words fail him completely as he comes with a groan into Lan Wangji's waiting mouth.

Lan Wangji gentles immediately, but keeps his mouth on him, showering his softening cock, the insides of his thighs, the hollow of his hips with a steady rain of tiny kisses, drawing Wei Wuxian's pleasure out and bringing him back into himself in tender increments.

Lan Wangji doesn't dodge when Wei Wuxian drops his hands to the back of Lan Wangji's head, doesn't shake out of his grip when he twists fingers that still thrum with pleasure into his hair, and goes along obediently when Wei Wuxian tugs him back up his body into a kiss. Wei Wuxian can taste himself on Lan Wangji's tongue and shudders, a curl of sated arousal coursing through him. He drops his still-bound arms over Lan Wangji's neck in an embrace, and tangles the fingers of one hand back into Lan Wangji's hair to pull him back a little, licking a smear of come from the corner of Lan Wangji's lips.

There's another spurt of come on his cheek, so Wei Wuxian presses a sucking, open-mouthed kiss there as well, licking the remainder up with his tongue. Another curl of arousal ripples through him, and he hitches his legs around Lan Wangji's hips, arching purposefully into Lan Wangji's erection. "Er-gege, you'll have to pull your pants off yourself; my hands are busy," he says in a low voice, before licking his way back into Lan Wangji's mouth.

Wei Wuxian nips at Lan Wangji's lower lip, arching his back and grinding his stomach against Lan Wangji's clothed cock.

Lan Wangji groans, scrabbling indecorously to pull his trousers off while Wei Wuxian clings to him tightly and rubs against him wantonly. Lan Wangji manages to pull the material down to mid-thigh, despite Wei Wuxian's best efforts to impede him, and shoves his hips down to meet Wei Wuxian's grinding thrusts.

Lan Wangji's movements grow more frantic, sweat rolling streaks through the remnants of the powder at his temples and down his cheeks. Wei Wuxian locks his ankles around Lan Wangji's waist and urges them into a faster pace, meeting each frenetic roll of Lan Wangji's hips.

"Wei Ying!" Lan Wangji cries, before Wei Wuxian captures his mouth in a kiss, swallowing his sounds as he comes into the slick closeness between their bodies.

Wei Wuxian kisses him over and over, legs still wrapped tightly around him. He strokes his hair smooth with bound hands, and opens his mouth to Lan Wangji when he begins to kiss back. Wei Wuxian kisses the side of his mouth, his cheek, up to his temple where only the faintest traces of the pale pink rouge powder remains.

"HanGuang-Jun," he says in a soft voice that's still full of mischief. "Look at what a mess you are. Where is your reputation for a perfect appearance now? You've completely ruined all my hard work." Lan Wangji raises a hand to touch his own temple, and the vermilion mark Wei Wuxian left on his wrist catches his eye. "You even stained my clothes!" Wei Wuxian continues, complaining a little more, just for fun.

Lan Wangji's expression betrays nothing, as he says, "None of the young misses look at you anyway. You invited all of them to our wedding banquet." Wei Wuxian just laughs and kisses him again. Wei Wuxian certainly can't deny that. And who could blame him, for wanting to show off his husband.

*

Wei Ying rubs the damp facecloth over Lan Wangji's cheek with the same careful attention he'd brought to applying the make-up in the first place. He dips the cloth back into the basin, wrings it out, and brings it back to wipe away the vestiges of the rouge around Lan Wangji's mouth and chin, and then leans forward to press a tender kiss to his clean, damp lips when he's done.

"Tilt your head," Wei Ying instructs, turning Lan Wangji's face with two fingers against his chin. "You've got this stuff all over." Lan Wangji can't see him grinning, smug, but Wei Ying doesn't even try to disguise it in his voice. A bright warmth rises in Lan Wangji's chest, so he permits his lips to twitch just the slightest bit upwards, knowing Wei Ying will catch it.

"You really are very pretty, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. He leans in close to Lan Wangji's ear, sending a slow curl of heat through him again, and whispers, "Next time let's put you in a gown, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Red Sandalwood Mouth by Zhao LuanLuan (趙鸞鸞), one translation available in Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations - Page 966 (which is available on googlebooks if not in your local library)
> 
> "A late-blooming flower is not necessarily lacking in fragrance" (迟开的花未必不香Chí kāi de huā wèi bì bú xiāng)  
> is an 8 character proverb that means that it's never too late to try something new. cf [this page](http://www.chinasage.info/symbols/flowersandfruit.htm) for more. 
> 
> Ancient Chinese rouge traditionally got its red colour from vermillion, or cinnabar, which is mercury sulfide, so poison. Expensive face powder would have been made with white lead, which is also poison, but Wei Wuxian went with the cheaper, safer alternative: rice flour.
> 
> [Sweet Osmanthus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osmanthus_fragrans) is a little yellow flower that is used to make tea, medicine, incense, or make-up. It has a mild fragrance and is supposed to be good for coughs, among other things.


End file.
